Thursday, June 26, 2008

She moves like a bullet: straight, all of her momentum directing her at whatever target her sights were set on when she was fired.

She cannot be stopped, only deflected. Her momentum must be used rather than fought, and if it is used properly she can be turned completely around, forgetting her initial interest.

In a new place she deflects herself. And she does it with such regularity that it's a wonder she ever touches anything at all: "Ball, guys...ooohh kitty......wall?.....maMA!...trash...." She is dizzying to watch. There are so many new things in the world for her, every day, that she just can't choose: she is a living example of Buridan's Ass, the donkey faced with identical bales of hay who cannot choose, and starves. She doesn't starve, though. She spins.

All I can do for her is watch, wait, and occasionally offer something, anything that might tip the scales of her interest: "Hey kid, do you want this book? Well, you can't have it. It's my book."

Because if it goes on too long she'll grow frustrated and upset. My little Kierkegaard will despair of the infinite, and because she is too young yet to realize what finitude means, and so cannot yet despair of her lack of options, this is the only despair of choice she has: too much of it.

I don't want to limit her choices. I want her to see the world as wonderful and novel, and to be comfortable with that without needing someone to guide her. I am not Hobbes, to think that true freedom only exists with guidance, like water down twisting flue.

But she is wiser than I. When her frustration peaks she will focus all of her attention; she will limit herself, shut out the world, and push her stroller.

The need to view the world as wonderful and novel should be a focus for people of all ages.

There is a scene in the movie "Knocked Up", where the lead character and his friend are at a park with the friend's children, and the kids are playing with bubbles. The friend remarks that he wishes he liked anything half as much as his kids liked bubbles.

That has always stuck with me... These small children so much enjoy something as fragile and simple as blowing bubbles, yet We as adults stuggle to find joy anywhere.

Great post. I agree with badass geek. Everyone needs to have this wonderment. As a new father, I am not quite where all of you are at with the kids. I am still trying to keep his head up and his onesies clean. Can't wait to experience all the fun....

All this feel-good-universe-is-so-damn-big shit is making my head swirl.

Your daughter is going to grow up and think you are gay. Simple as that. Why? Because she knows that you know you're gay. Next time you look in her eyes, I think you should ask yourself seriously whether she's not really thinking you're gay. That's what those big blue eyes say to me when we get together. They say: "please help, Uncle A, my dad's gay."

Clearly you need to rediscover your testicles. But we should start slow. Do you want to see "Wanted" next week, and "drink the world interesting" for a couple of hours? It's about assassins, but J-Lo is in it too, so that seems about your speed right now. The beer might be a bit much, but I'm hoping it'll force a hair or two to sprout on your otherwise womanly profile.